


Welcome to the Madness

by paxton1976



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Friendships, Hand Jobs, Impulse Control, Kissing, Language, M/M, Male Homosexuality, One Shot, Rough Kissing, Shameless Smut, Smut, Throw Caution to the Wind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10595481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paxton1976/pseuds/paxton1976
Summary: After seeing Yuri's exhibition program, both he and Otabek lose themselves to their own madness.“What are you going to do about it?” the teen asked lowly, provoking the other.“Are you serious?” Otabek demanded, “You have no idea what you’re asking.”“Oh, but I do,” Yuri said, “I’m on a high right now.  It’s intoxicating.  I don’t care what happens.  I want the madness to take over.  Join me.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [minatomano](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minatomano/gifts).



> I wrote this for a dear friend after she saw the preview video. She wanted something that ensconced the mood of the program. She also wanted it mainly from Otabek's point of view. I hope it delivers.
> 
> I want to say that this fic is purely based upon the title: madness. There's no rhyme or reason. It's pure living in the moment. It's provocative and alluring. There is nothing logical about it, caution is thrown to the wind and impulsivity rules the day. But it's not for everyone. I've tried to tag it so those that aren't into it can scroll past. Many don't like Otayuri at this age range as it's an adult/teen dynamic. Even though it's barely, I respect they have their own opinion. I would like those to respect others' opinions; those who like to enjoy fics like this. Please don't leave disparaging remarks because it's not your cup of tea. I would like to say this as kind as I can: Don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. I've had to say this in past Otayuri fics as well: If you leave a rude comment, I'll delete it without hesitation. 
> 
> Now that the unpleasantness is out of the way, I hope you like this little canon divergence and allowing my mind to wander. I usually don't write fics like this, but it was an interesting switch. It was fun to write even if the topic is risque. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy 'Welcome to Madness'.

As much as I wish I could, I don’t own Yuri!!! On Ice.  
This fic is not beta’d.   
While I truly appreciate the offers, I’m not currently looking for a beta.

You can follow me on [tumblr](http://paxohana.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/paxohana). Stay up to date on latest chapters and story progress, if you have an idea, or just want to give a shout out! You guys are what drives me, and I so appreciate every one of you.

 

He was out of breath as he glided to the edge of the rink.  When he reached the opening along the railing, he nodded to the Canadian getting ready to take the ice.  He skirted the edge of the rail as he tried to find an open spot.  There were three other performers after him and he was interested in seeing what his fellow competitors were going to share with the world.

 

Leaning against the worn padding on the half-wall, he watched JJ run through his routine.  Though it exuded confidence, it was surprisingly lackluster.  Frowning as he watched the Canadian, he wondered how much JJ’s meltdown would affect the future of his career.

 

“Hey.”

 

He shifted his attention to his right, smirking when he saw his new Russian friend.  The teen’s hair had a braid on each side of his head and was pulled back into a bun.  The leather pants clung to his body, the crop top draping loosely over his slender frame.  A magenta blazer hugged his chest and tapered his waist perfectly.  A pair of sunglasses perched on top of his pale blond tresses completed his look.

 

“Channeling our inner badass, are we?” Otabek teased. 

 

“This is the only program I had control over this season, so I wanted it to be me,” Yuri said, “Lilia about had a fucking cow, though.”

 

“I bet.  Miss High-and-Mighty doesn’t approve?”

 

“Hell no,” Yuri grumbled, “Yakov isn’t happy about it either.  Damn geezers.”

 

“Can’t wait to see it,” the older teen said.

 

Yuri turned his head and grinned at his friend.  His face contorted in confusion when the Kazakh closed his eyes and chuckled.  He felt his defenses rise, but he didn’t want to unleash his usual rage on his friend.  Taking a deep breath, he thought of what to say to Otabek.

 

“What?”

 

“I think you need some more eyeliner,” the teen teased, “Georgi do your makeup?”

 

“Like I’d let that pansy touch me,” Yuri mumbled, “Fuck him and his ‘I need a woman’ shit.”

 

“Hey, to each their own,” Otabek said.

 

“He can take that love shit and shove it up his ass.”

 

“Ok, so we don’t like Georgi,” the teen said, laughing, “What do you think about JJ’s program?”

 

“I hope he falls on his fucking face,” Yuri grouched.

 

“Ouch, don’t like him either?”

 

“Can’t stand him,” he answered, “I know he’s your former rink mate and all, but he could break a leg and I would care less.”

 

“Harsh.”

 

The teens remained quiet and watched JJ finish his program.  Yuri leaned against the rail when everyone applauded.  He diverted his eyes to the man standing next to him.  Yuuri Katsuki was doing his final stretches before taking the ice.

 

“Oi, Katsudon,” the teen yelled, getting Yuuri’s attention, “Are you really doing that pairs thing Viktor was talking about?”

 

“Yep,” the young man said, grinning brightly, “I’m looking forward to it.  We’ve been practicing a lot.”

 

“You’re really sticking around?  Coming to Russia?”

 

“After Japanese Nationals,” Yuuri admitted, looking to the ice when he heard his name, “I’m up. Talk later, Yuri?”

 

“Yeah, have fun,” the teen said, waving the young man away.

 

“Are him and Viktor really…” Otabek asked before being interrupted.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And they’re going to…”

 

“Yes!  Shut up!” Yuri yelled, “It’s going to be bad enough having them in the same rink for months on end.  You should have seen them in Hasetsu. It was only three weeks then.”

 

“Feel for ya, man,” Otabek joked.

 

“No, you don’t.”

 

“You’re right. I don’t,” the teen said, laughing.

 

They turned their attention back to center stage when the crowd erupted into applause.   Viktor had taken the ice, caressing the young man’s cheek when he reached Yuuri.  Their program was sweet and full of love.  The emotion they poured into the routine could be felt by the entire arena.  It was a beautiful routine, but not Yuri’s style.

 

When Yuuri and Viktor left the ice and the children collected all the gifts from the rink, it was Yuri’s turn.  Otabek wished the teen luck and watched his friend skate to the center of the rink.  Once he reached his starting position, the teen lowered his sunglasses onto his face and waited for the music to start.  The crash of cymbals, the squeal of an electric guitar along with a scream from the singer filled the arena.  The young Russian lifted his head, hair swirling around his face as he lowered his head quickly.  He held his arms out and spun in a circle, jutting a hip out.  His right knee bent slightly before his foot crashed onto the ice, sending frozen shavings flying.  He shrugged his shoulders and the blazer fell around his elbows, revealing the shredded back of the skimpy top the teen was wearing.  When Yuri bent his knees and looked back at him, Otabek bit his lip and stood up straight.

 

“Ah, hell,” he muttered.

 

He was captivated by the power of Yuri’s routine.  The mood and emotions were intense.  The teen sped across the ice, throwing his everything into each jump and spin.  Otabek’s jaw dropped when the teen took the blazer off and tossed it at him.  He caught it before being hit in the face.  Clutching the garment against his chest, Otabek looked back to the ice.

 

Yuri had sped up to prepare for a jump.  He launched into the air, rotating until he landed on the outer edge of his skate.  The crowd cheered after the teen executed the jump perfectly.  He raced along the edge of the rink until he was parallel with the center.  He lifted from the ice again, turning the jump into an airborne split.  He landed on both feet and spun around quickly. 

 

Otabek watched with baited breath as the teen lowered his knee onto the ice, sliding along with the other bent.  His eyes widened when Yuri arched his back and held his arms out, letting his splayed fingers trail over the cold surface.

 

“Fuck me,” Otabek growled.

 

He was glad he was holding the teen’s blazer when the crop top fell and rested along Yuri’s neck.  His mouth watered when he saw the muscles on the teen’s torso flex.  Yuri rose to his feet and looked in his direction with a wicked grin on his face.  Otabek tried to maintain a neutral expression, holding out his hand like a gun. When the teen drew closer, he pulled his hand back as if he were firing a revolver.  He was rewarded with Yuri’s grin growing wider.

 

Otabek was captivated as the teen continued the program.  While the routine was brash and bold, it emanated dangerous sensuality.  He couldn’t take his eyes off Yuri.  Each twist, turn and jerk of the teen’s body made him inhale sharply. 

 

He wasn’t supposed to be doing this, not supposed to react physically to an exhibition program.  While they were designed to elicit emotion, he wasn’t supposed to have a now-raging hard-on.  He took several deep breaths to calm himself, ignoring the heat building within him.

 

It was all for naught when Yuri ended his program.  Executing one final quad jump, he landed and held one leg out as he spun around.  The momentum slowed, the teen kicking his toe pick onto the ice and letting one shoulder slouch.  Otabek tried his best to suppress a groan when the crop top fell, exposing half of the teen’s chest.  Ignoring the confused look JJ gave him, he walked to the gap in the rail and waited for the teen.

 

Otabek watched Yuri take several bows, smiling and waving at the crowd.  He heard murmuring from other competitors around him, wondering why a fifteen-year old would skate a program like that.  It was too risqué, too daring.  He rolled his eyes and thought they didn’t know the young Russian very well.  Yuri was always pushing the limits recklessly.  It was one thing he loved about the teen.

 

However, this time Yuri had pushed too far.

 

“Hey,” Yuri said as he tried to catch his breath, “What did you think?”

 

Otabek waited for the teen to put his blade guards on before grabbing his wrist and tugging him out of the rink.  Ignoring greetings from other skaters, he dragged Yuri down the hallway.  He found the warm-up room he had used before his program and rushed to it.  Pushing the teen into the center of the room, he shut and locked the door behind him.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Yuri asked.

 

“What the hell was that?” Otabek demanded, holding an arm out and pointing to the door.

 

“Ah, my program?” the teen asked, grinning, “Like it? I named it ‘Welcome to the Madness’”

 

“’Welcome to the Madness’,” Otabek said, running his hands over his face, “Well, you achieved your madness.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You never thought about how people might react?” he asked, “What they might think?”

 

“When have I ever cared what people thought?” Yuri asked, “Even though our friendship is new, you and I knew who the other was and what we’re about.”

 

Otabek paced the room, raking a hand through his hair.  He battled with his own madness threatening to overpower him.  The two teens were known as the bad boys of skating.   While Otabek didn’t mind that reputation, Yuri did everything within his power to maintain the standard. 

 

He just wondered where he fell into that equation.

 

“What are you so upset about?” Yuri demanded, “It was a fucking program!”

 

“I’m upset at most branding you as the newest bad boy in the senior division.  I’m upset at people ignoring your gold medal and only viewing you through your gala performance,” Otabek said loudly, “I’m upset at you for acting so brash and provoking everyone. I’m upset at myself for my reaction.  Is that enough for you?”

 

“Does it look like I care?  And what the fuck are you talking about?  Reaction?”

 

“The madness, Yuri,” he admitted, “Logic going out the window.  Impulsivity taking over, wanton abandon threatening to control me.  That stunt you pulled out there? The inferno it set in me, fanning it into a wildfire?  Madness, Yuri.”

 

“This is a bad thing because why?”

 

Otabek dropped the blazer he’d been carrying onto the floor.  He knew the bulge in his pants would be obvious.  Yuri’s eyes swept the teen’s frame, smiling wickedly when he saw tenting in Otabek’s jeans.  Taking several steps to close the gap between them, he placed his hands on the teen’s shoulders and balanced on the front of his blade guards.  Opening his mouth, he moved his face inches away from Otabek’s and inhaled sharply.  The evil grin had returned to Yuri’s lips.

 

“What are you going to do about it?” the teen asked lowly, provoking the other.

 

“Are you serious?” Otabek demanded, “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

 

“Oh, but I do,” Yuri said, “I’m on a high right now.  It’s intoxicating.  I don’t care what happens.  I want the madness to take over.  Join me.”

 

Otabek stared into the teen’s emerald eyes, contemplating what to do.  He wanted to throw caution to the wind.  He wanted to give in to his physical desires. He wanted Yuri. He didn’t want to ruin their friendship, though.  After so many years of wanting to befriend the teen, he was finally able to a few days ago.

 

“You know you want to,” Yuri goaded.

 

When the young Russian licked his lower lip, something within Otabek snapped.  He thrust his hands into blond tresses and yanked Yuri closer, crushing their lips together.  He felt the teen smirk against his lips.  Otabek opened his mouth slightly and tried to pull back, but Yuri grabbed the collar of his jacket and plunged his tongue inside. 

 

It became hard to breathe just from a simple kiss.  Otabek had slept with others before, but he had never felt the intoxication he felt now.  He didn’t know if it was being caught up in the moment of competition, lack of sleep or pure adrenaline.  A lot of it had to do with watching Yuri’s licentious behavior on the ice. 

 

“If this fucks up our friendship, I’m going to be beyond pissed,” Otabek rasped against the teen’s mouth.

 

“It won’t.  I promise. One and done.”

 

Yuri pulled Otabek down for another kiss; bruising their lips, hard clashing of teeth.  Without breaking apart, Yuri pushed the jacket the teen was wearing off his shoulders and down his arms.  Otabek tugged on the sleeves and let the jacket fall on the ground.  The Russian grabbed fistfuls of the t-shirt the teen was wearing, yanking him until their bodies crashed together.  His jeans grew tighter against his erection, making it very uncomfortable. 

 

Yuri must have felt it as well, his hand darting down his body and clutching the bulge in Otabek’s jeans.  The teen jerked when he felt the squeeze from the delicate yet strong hand.  It had been a while since he’d had anyone so he was very sensitive, very aroused.  Feeling the palm press harder against him, Otabek lost the last shred of control he had. 

 

He was completely lost to his madness.

 

Within seconds of Otabek unbuttoning his jeans, Yuri wound his hand under the waistband of the teen’s boxers and grasped his cock.  Otabek pressed his forehead against the Russian’s and groaned.  This kid wasn’t supposed to be making him feel like this.

 

Yuri let go of the teen’s shirt to unfasten his pants and loosen the zipper.  Removing the hand in his hair, the teen lowered Otabek’s hand to the band of his underwear.  The Kazakh slid his hand down slowly, feeling soft curls before holding the teen’s hardness.  He wrapped his fingers around the shaft and squeezed gently.

 

“I’m not fucking you,” Otabek stated, staring at the teen seriously.

 

“Never said we were.  Just release the tension, let the madness go,” Yuri suggested, leaning forward to kiss the teen briefly, “Can you handle that?”

 

“Can you?”

 

“Just shut up.  Feel it, live in the moment,” the teen demanded.

 

Yuri started stroking his friend’s cock, squeezing sporadically.  Each time his hand reached the head, Yuri would flick his thumb over the sensitive band of skin.  He loved the sounds the Kazakh was making; the rumbles coming from deep within Otabek’s chest, the hisses when his thumb rubbed smooth, raised skin. The power was heady. 

 

Yuri groaned when the teen reciprocated.  Otabek’s strong hand pumped him methodically.  The tension remained the same but the speed picked up gradually.  Staring daggers into the teen when he slowed, Yuri started to thrust his hips into Otabek’s hand.

 

“Greedy much?” Otabek growled.

 

“I want to come and you keep dicking around,” the teen grumbled, gasping when the Kazakh squeezed him harder.

 

“Poor choice of words.”

 

“Shut the fuck up and get me off,” Yuri demanded.

 

Hands pumping, hips rising and falling, heavy breaths and low moans filled the room.  Otabek closed his eyes as he neared completion, thinking how wonderful his friend’s hand felt on him.  He was almost saddened this was only a one-time deal. 

 

A hard jerk on his cock had him coming.  Yuri covered the tip with his hand, containing the mess in Otabek’s boxers.  When the haze of his orgasm cleared, he focused on his friend.  He watched Yuri’s eyes flutter shut and his face scrunch as he lifted his hips once more time before shooting all over the teen’s hand.  Otabek removed his hand and looked around for a towel. 

 

Turning back to the teen when he felt a hand on his wrist, his eyes widened when Yuri brought his hand to his mouth and took the tips of Otabek’s fingers in his mouth.  The teen took each finger in his mouth, cleaning his come off his friend’s hand.  His tongue trailed down the long fingers, lapping the gaps in between.  He flicked his tongue over the palm of his friend’s hand until it was spotless. 

 

Otabek was about to speak, but Yuri removed his hand from the teen’s jeans.  He lifted it to his mouth and cleaned the fluid off his own hand.  Otabek stood frozen to the spot, spellbound by the Russian.  Yuri stared him in the eyes while the pink tip of his tongue darted between his fingers.

 

“You’re fucking mad,” Otabek rumbled.

 

“You’re just now figuring this out?” Yuri asked, smirking at the teen, “Come on.  I’ve worked up quite the appetite.  Dinner?  My treat.”

 

“Are you serious?” Otabek asked incredulously, “We get each other off and the minute we’re done you want to go out for dinner?”

 

“One hunger satisfied, the other begging to be fed,” Yuri explained.

 

“Why do I kind of feel like I’ve been used?” he asked.

 

“If I was using you, this would be a one-time deal and I’d never talk with you again,” Yuri explained, buttoning his pants and looking in a nearby mirror to straighten his hair.

 

“You said this was a one-time thing.”

 

Yuri turned around, pressed his body against the teen’s and kissed him.  It wasn’t as impatient or hungry as the ones before, but it was reassuring.  Otabek lowered his hands to the Russian’s hips and moved his lips against the others.

 

“If you’re lucky, which I think you are,” Yuri said, smiling at the teen, “maybe we’ll do this again one day.  How about we keep the madness at bay for a while and focus on our friendship?”

 

“Plisetsky, you are one fucked up individual.”

 

“Just a little bit," Yuri joked, “Locker room.  I want to get out of these skates and take this makeup off.”

 

“Can I make a request?”

 

“What?” Yuri asked as he opened the door and entered the hallway.

 

“Leave the eyeshadow and eyeliner on,” Otabek suggested, “You look fucking hot.”

 

“You’re an asshole.”

 

Otabek chuckled, following the teen down the hall.  He stopped when a thought entered his head, something that crossed his mind while they were pleasuring the other.

 

“Yuri, wait up,” he said, walking quickly to join the teen.

 

“What?”

 

“How in the hell does a fifteen-year old know how to do what you did?”

 

“You’re not the first, Altin,” Yuri said, pressing a finger against the others’ lips, “But maybe you’ll be the last.”


End file.
